Enjoy this moment, you are not promised another.
“Trust yourself as one entrusted by God with everything you need to live your life to the full.” — Brennan Manning
There are times in life where things come into clear focus. Times when who you really are comes to the surface with violent clarity. For me this happens every time I stub my toe. You may be snickering but know this; there is no pain like toe pain.
I usually stub my toe when I am in a hurry which compounds the pain and frustration. One time in the rush to round up some last minute items before a flight and I jammed my toe into the baby gate. Well, it would be more accurate to say that I almost ripped my tiniest and most vulnerable toe clean off. I won’t go into all the vivid details but suffice to say there was a lot of blood, pain, and hilarity as Lindsay and I tried to get things cleaned up without panicking our two year old daughter.
I ended up losing the nail which made me surprisingly sad. This thing that was a part of me, is now no longer a part of me. It is now just lifeless cells. It reminded me that one day all of my body will no longer be “me” because I will one day die. What I leave behind will be lifeless cells and memories in the lives of those who I loved best.
This incident happened two years ago and these random thoughts about death now happen with increasing frequency. Over the last few years death has had a sharper sting for me because the reality has sunk in. Like a panther quietly waiting in the corner, death is present in a way I have not experienced before.
Life will end someday for all of us. For most of us much sooner than we would like. It is like a vapor, here one moment and gone the next.
Being raised as a Christian, I grew up with an odd relationship to death. We say that death has lost its sting but I can’t remember a death that didn’t bring pain. We follow the teachings of a man that we believe defeated death but in the end we all will experience it. We seek clever ways numb the pain by saying things like “God needed another angel” but that is cold comfort to the ones who needed that angel today.
I remember talking to a doctor who said that on average Christians in America spend more money to draw out the dying process more than any other group. We will fight to keep relatives alive long after those of other faiths or even those with no faith have accepted the truth.
We aren’t good at dying even though we say we have nothing to be afraid of.
As I try to understand death and its inevitability I find the Bible can be a problematic book to turn to. With all the resurrections and miracles it is no wonder we think we are never going to die.
This is why I like the book of Ecclesiastes. It isn’t a typical stop in most Sunday sermons but I find it to be the most honest book in all the Bible. In chapter 9 the writer, called The Teacher, has this to say about death:
“Even though the actions of godly and wise people are in God’s hands, no one knows whether God will show them favor. The same destiny ultimately awaits everyone, whether righteous or wicked, good or bad, ceremonially clean or unclean, religious or irreligious. Good people receive the same treatment as sinners, and people who make promises to God are treated like people who don’t.”
I find this refreshing because there is no sugar coating it. We all die and more often than not the manner of our death isn’t fair. There are some things you just can’t pray away.
The Teacher continues on but I am struck by this bit of wisdom he lands on in chapter 11.
“Just as you cannot understand the path of the wind or the mystery of a tiny baby growing in its mother’s womb, so you cannot understand the activity of God, who does all things. Plant your seed in the morning and keep busy all afternoon, for you don’t know if profit will come from one activity or another — or maybe both.”
I think what the Teacher is trying to say is that you cannot completely understand the Universe and its workings. All you can do is the work in front of you and find meaning in that. If you find meaning and purpose in knowing why everything happened then you are ultimately going to be very disappointed.
I don’t understand death; particularly cruel or tragic death. If I was a more spiritual person I might say that in the midst of uncertainty God is my refuge but honestly there are days where I feel that God is not very good at thinking ahead. I have stopped trying to understand because I honestly can’t.
So I do something else instead.
In times where I really cannot understand why things are happening pragmatism is my refuge. It is a mindset that keeps me sane, moving and even joyful in the midst of death and suffering.
Here is why:
Pragmatism keeps me focused on what I can actually do.
The Teacher in Ecclesiastes names reality. We cannot understand all the activity of God/Universe/Fate/Whatever. I cannot explain why your friend died, why you have that disease, or why you don’t have a child. When I try to I come across as arrogant or uncaring.
What I can do is love you in the midst of this. I can sacrifice my shirt to your tears and mascara. I can buy your groceries. I can hold your hand during the service or the treatment. I can leave you alone if that is what you need. When I cannot explain, maybe especially when I can’t explain, I still have the ability to be present.
Pragmatism keeps me from overthinking.
It is easy to get lost in the theological abyss that is death and suffering. It is tempting to intellectualize the darkness to take the emotional edge off but that edge is the very thing that allows you to empathize with those facing suffering and death. Don’t lose it.
When I get too obsessed with finding an answer I have to ask, what am I really doing this for? Is it to give a cup of refreshing water to a thirsty friend or am I drinking the wine of certainty to numb my own doubts and fears? Is it to impress with a great answer or to actually be of use? Often times my navel-gazing makes me less helpful and not more.
Pragmatism keeps me grateful.
You cannot be immortal but what you can do is to be grateful for the good things you do get to fill your life with. Fear of death is a cousin to the fear of missing out. It keeps you from fully enjoying what you already have.
If you are reading this now you are alive. That is the gift. How long it happens to be or what you get to do are a bonus, not a right. You get this moment, this time, this place. Your past is a memory and the future is unknowable.
This is it and it is an undeserved grace.
When I focus on living in this one glorious moment I don’t worry about death so much. I remember that I have people who love me, dreams to work toward, tasks to do, a life to live. In a strange way, the fact that it will one day end makes me more grateful for it. I realize that right now I have everything I need.
I think we can find life even in the midst of death. Not by coming with answers but with hugs, food, joy, and even tears. To me, this is the work of God among us. These little moments, chained together to become a life, are a miracle worth celebrating.
Call to Action:
What practices keep you grateful for this one life? How could pragmatism help you focus on what matters most?
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